


never let these ties sever

by mjscorner



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Avengers Family, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Party, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Happy Birthday Tony Stark, Happy Ending, Irony, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark Friendship (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Lives, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Lives, Tony Stark’s birthday, Uncle Happy Hogan, Uncle James "Rhodey" Rhodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24447163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjscorner/pseuds/mjscorner
Summary: tony stark stitched the universe back together again and was known as not only earth’s mightiest defender, but the universe’s.now, it was time for him to become the familial man that only a select few knew about. it was time for him to celebrate his birthday with the actual intent of celebrating his life.ORhappy birthday tony stark. here’s to the birthday you never got but deserved
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	never let these ties sever

**Author's Note:**

> "old man, give me endless time,  
> never let these ties sever."  
> -old ties & companions by mandolin orange

Tony Stark didn’t really celebrate his birthday.

He might’ve treated himself to a lavish party in the past, or maybe a hail Mary in the form of enough antibiotics to treat Steve Rogers, but even those lavish parties weren't thrown to celebrate Tony, and those antibiotics weren't taken to heal his constant aches.

They were made to make him forget.

They were made to force out the memories of his childhood birthdays, in which Howard would constantly objectify Tony into nothing more than the prodigy that Howard molded him to be, nothing more than the future face of Stark Industries.

" _You wanna know what your birthday present is, tyke_?" Howard would say, not gracing his son with eye contact. " _Your birthday present is this company. It's a reminder. You work hard enough, you climb the American ladder fast enough, the country's yours. That's your birthday present._ "

And Tony would stare up at his father as his head barely came up the man's waist, would hide behind his dark lashes and curly, youthful bangs, and yet he would pad behind Howard regardless, entirely unsure who he was when he wasn't hiding in Howard's shadow.

He liked living in an ignorantly blissful bubble. He liked stumbling into his suit on a drunken evening and going fast, so fast that his stomach would drop and his blood would pump and his only focus was geared toward going even faster. 

He liked flaunting his technology to spite his father, boasting and parading about his penthouse as he shot champagne bottles in the air and sweet-talked girls. 

He liked forgetting, even for moments at a time, that he was Anthony Edward Stark; genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

It was with these thoughts in mind and a distinct, humorous swell of irony in his chest that he looked out and around his living room at his family, their spirits filling every crevice in the old lakehouse and filtering out into the breeze outside.

As he sat in the rocking chair by the fireplace, the crackle of the flames and the warmth it emitted soothing his old heart, his gaze first trailed to Steve Rogers, standing by the kitchen island and popping a grape in his mouth as he laughed at something Pepper was saying to him from the stove.

Steve Rogers. The oldest man in the world, yet robbed of so much time. A man treated as a soldier first and foremost by all rather than the familial type Tony had grown to love. 

But God, Tony _hated_ him.

When the two met for the first time, they each possessed predetermined thoughts about the other that set the course for their entire relationship. Tony Stark grew up in both the Stark name and Steve's shadow, reminded constantly by his own father that Steve Rogers was responsible for world peace and, well, that notion didn't exactly give a hungover, teenaged Tony Stark any motivation to measure up to the fanfare. Steve, on the other hand, woke from the ice and learned first and foremost that Howard Stark's son was a weapons dealer of mass destruction. 

Yet, now, he saw none of that. He didn't even think of Howard when he saw Steve anymore. He no longer yielded that power to his father.

Instead, he saw a man sculpted by time and grief, attached now to the present by his strongest connections to the present: The Avengers.

That was one thing Tony and Steve always had in common. They were haunted by their failures, the metaphorical rugs of their lives constantly yanked out from underneath them and forcing them to play catch up, yet they both managed to find people to call family, naive enough to give their hearts to and trust as unshakeable bastions.

With that thought fresh on his mind, his gaze trailed to Pepper.

Pepper Potts. A woman with wisdom beyond her time, her sharp edges smoothed over from years of heartache and sorrow and, unfortunately, love for Tony Stark.

Sometimes he'd felt guilty, but he had warned her. As long as she was in a relationship with him, nothing would ever be okay.

But her vehemence had clearly rubbed off on him eventually because he no longer longed for the thrill of Iron Man, no longer hid behind a mask because, well, Pepper was always able to see right through his playboy glamour with those twinkling, sagacious eyes of hers.

He used to think that they were like Clark Kent and Lois Lane. She would long for him, wait for him at home while she bit her nails and paced about his penthouse, and he would come home guns ablazin', his heavy metal blaring and his suit glimmering in the Malibu sunset. His charm would swoon her.

He hoped it still did. But instead of leaving Pepper to fight aliens and defeat gods, he stayed put. Instead of flooring her with his obnoxious technology, he would enter a room with his daughter in his arms bridal-style, and Pepper would swoon more than she ever did when Tony was Iron Man.

Not that she swooned at the sight of Tony in a suit at all, at any point in time, ever. 

He tilted his head fondly as she looked up from chopping vegetables at the counter and met his gaze, her eyes crinkled as her already beaming smile grew. 

She winked at him. Tony sighed contentedly. 

He got his power from Iron Man, but he got his strength from Pepper Potts.

He winked back as his gaze trailed to Happy and Rhodey.

They were talking over drinks in the kitchen. Happy was smelling whatever Pepper was cooking. She smacked his hand as he attempted to stir the pot, thought the warm, humorous smiles remained on both of their faces.

Happy Hogan. Tony's most loyal confidante. A man that Tony would move heaven and Earth for because Happy had done even more than that for him throughout the years. A man that had sometimes watched Morgan for Tony during those five years of grief as he tried his hardest to avoid all of his trauma in vain.

And Happy knew this from the get-go. Happy probably knew Tony's grieving patterns more than anyone, even more than Pepper and Rhodey. He had experienced first hand that, even though the world saw Tony Stark lifting continents and firing lasers from his hands and walking away from explosions to the sound of heavy metal, _Happy_ saw the pain that hid behind it, saw the panic attacks and the tears and the guilt. 

Oh, the guilt. If anyone knew it in Tony's raw form, it was Happy.

Tony's gaze trailed to Rhodey. The irony came rushing back at full force as he recalled the many conversations the two had shared about missions, strength, overall badassery, IQ. 

Now, the only thing he saw was Fun Uncle. It was a competition between Happy and Rhodey, yet they were both in a constant tie. The point was, Tony no longer felt the worrisome need to cover Rhodey from head to toe in Stark technology.

The Stark family already bathed him in unconditional love and adoration, and to Tony, that was more than any laser beam or machine gun could do.

Laughter suddenly bounced about the walls of the cabin, and Tony was melting because his _kids_ were running into the living room, and they were _playing._

Morgan was shouting out in surprise and grinning from ear to ear as Peter was scooping her up in the air and steering the kid like a plane. She was throwing her hands out in the air, her brown hair flowing behind her as Peter swooshed her about.

Tony wasn't even worried. He knew that Peter would never let Morgan get hurt in a million, billion years. 

Tony's love for Morgan didn't have limitations. It didn't have exceptions or timeframes or rules. His heart swelled at the mere idea of her. He would cheesily compare fatherhood's effect on his heart to the scene in _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ where the Grinch's heart grew three sizes and beat out his chest. That was legitimately how it felt, and who was going to correct him?

Morgan was his baby. Her existence had quite literally brought Tony back to the surface, had smothered him in a love he never knew he needed so badly before. She saved him. Tony would never, ever forget that.

Another laugh bounced around the walls. Peter was putting Morgan down on the ground again, chasing her excitedly. His hair was bouncing about in the air youthfully.

_Oh, my Peter._

Peter was his baby too, just as much as Morgan was. Peter was an orphan kid from Queens with an enormous heart and a devotion to civil service. Peter was an idiotically self-sacrificing vigilante with a notorious alter ego that nearly killed him every other night. Peter was a student at the Midtown School of Science and Technology with a 3.8 GPA and a longing to create with his hands. 

But more importantly, Peter was...everything. He was _everything_.

Peter was the kid that was ripped from life far too soon. Peter was the kid that Tony could hear in the dead of night, begging him to stay, crying that he didn’t want to go.

Tony would hear that moment for all eternity, whether Peter lived or didn’t. 

And Peter was the kid that Tony had grieved already, no matter how painful it was to admit. After years of denial, anger, bargaining, depression...Tony thought of those nights when Peter had confided in him, had shared with him his deepest, darkest secrets and had poured into Tony the ways in which he felt deserted. Like his family was bound to die before him, and he would be left to pick up the pieces all his life.

Peter’s parents’ death didn’t particularly effect him. He was too young to know the pain of their absence. Ben, however, broke him. Ben shattered everything Peter knew with his death and changed Peter’s entire life.

Tony remembered the night he thought he had finally reached acceptance in the stages of grief. He sat on the porch of his cabin alone, the sun setting on one side of the sky as the other brought dark, rolling clouds, heavy with rain.

It was a sight to see, one that closely resembled a photograph Peter had taken several years back and gifted Tony in their shared lab.

It was taken during one of Peter’s patrols. He used to brag that his Spider powers actually made remarkable use for photography, and Tony wasn’t about to object to Peter using his powers for something other than fighting bad guys.

Peter would swing up and above the city of New York, about the neighborhoods he swore to protect with his life, and would photograph the breathtaking landscapes. Tony admired that about Peter, adored the way his kid always saw the beauty in things that Tony normally wouldn’t have given a second glance. He didn’t even know his kid was interested in photography.

Tony wondered what else he never got to know about Peter, what other things he never got to see him do.

And Tony was overwhelmed with emotion as he suddenly felt the urge to scream at a universe that would kill an innocent boy after he’d already been wrecked with death so many times before. He wanted to ask how the universe chose _him_ over _Tony_ when Thanos snapped his fingers. He wanted to reach an arm through the afterlife and scoop Peter back into existence, to untether the kid from the clawed hands of death that always seemed to keep a firm hold of him. 

But then, he thought of Peter’s soul, deciding then and there that, wherever his baby was, he was safe.

 _May angels lead you in_ , Tony thought with tears in his eyes. _May you spend an eternity in heaven with your Uncle. May you find peace. May you move on in ways I can’t._

But then, the universe showed Tony mercy. It thrusted Peter straight into the crux of the planet’s greatest battle, sure, but still, it placed Peter back into existence as if he had never left.

Peter could’ve rambled on about space and being dusty and talking to Bleeker street magicians as much as he wanted to. Tony would bask in his energy regardless, would stare at his precious child like he was the greatest miracle to ever walk the Earth.

People said Tony Stark saved the universe. But that wasn't true. Peter Parker did, in the end.

"Daddy!"

Tony snapped out of his stupor and immediately lunged forward to scoop Morgan up in his arms. It was instinctive, habitual. Peter stood in front of the two, winking at Morgan as he crossed to the coffee table and lifted up a bagged gift.

"So, uh...we-we got you this. Morgan and I."

"Well, you're both in big trouble," Tony scoffed, his hand running through Morgans short curls as he accepted the gift begrudgingly. "I thought I said no gifts."

He said this as he ignored the table full of wrapped gifts by the front door. 

"But that's dumb!" Morgan frowned, her arms crossed. "That's what birthdays are for!"

"Trust me," Peter assured, "I think you'll make an exception for this one."

Tony tilted his head curiously at that, amusement glimmering in his eye as Peter beamed down at him. He looked down at the gift, pulling out the tissue paper carefully.

It looked like a scrapbook. It was wrapped in red ribbon. Tony undid the ties and opened the book, his heart completely still in his chest.

_Oh, hell. I can't do this._

"It's nothing much, really," Peter was saying sheepishly. "But Mo and I thought you would really like it, so..."

The first photo was Peter, Morgan, Tony, and Pepper sitting on that swinging chair out on the porch of the lakehouse. The one beneath that was a photo of Peter and Morgan sitting by the garden, Peter decked out in tiaras and feather boas and glitter stickers as he held a teacup in one hand and a peace sign in the other. Morgan was doubled over with laughter, her face barely visible except for her cherry-red cheeks.

The third photo was from Christmas. Pepper and May had conspired against Tony and Peter to take it. Peter was asleep in Tony's arms as Tony held the kid protectively, staring out the snow-covered window with eyes closed and a content soul. His hand was playing with Peter’s ear. He did that sometimes, just squeezed his kid’s goofy ears with a priceless smile. He loved them. They were perfect.

The fourth was Tony and Rhodey. Both held hands in front of their faces to shield the flash of the camera. They sat by the fire, a glass of whiskey held loosely in their hands.

The fifth was Tony and Steve. They were sitting by the pit next to the lake, the sun setting and the fire burning. You could only see their silhouettes, but to a blind eye, everything about their postures screamed that they were lifelong companions. Maybe that's how it always should've been.

The sixth one was a photo of Tony, Peter, and Morgan. Morgan was cradled in Tony's arms like the baby he would always insist that she was. Peter was grinning as Tony was planting a firm kiss into Peter's tufts of curls. 

The final photo was an unmistakable photo of Tony and Peter, standing in the compound and holding fake internship certificates. 

Tony's breath was taken away for a brief moment as he drank the photo in. He knew it well, had spent years studying the way Peter's rabbit ears were crooked behind Tony's head, the way the kid held the certificate upside-down, and the way Tony from the past wasn't smiling in the photo, wasn't savoring the kid when he was alive like he always wished he would have.

Tony flipped the page. There were several slots for more photos, more memories that the years would bring him. It implied a future, one Tony had once sworn up and down he would never get.

He spared a quick thought to his birthdays of the past. The contrast between the two images in his head, one of him getting blackout drunk and making a fool of himself in his penthouse and wallowing in self-pity, and the other of him now, surrounded by people he loved recklessly and endlessly, was enough to pull a laugh out of the back of his throat.

He never wanted to forget who he was again. He loved this family, this house, this life.

"Well?" Peter beckoned carefully, shaking Tony from his stupor. "What do you think?"

"Oh," Tony breathed, letting the scrapbook rest in his lap as he brought a steadying hand to his mouth. His vision blurred with tears. "Oh, Peter, Morgan...I _love_ it."

"Oh," Peter exhaled in relief, his smile returning in an instant. "Good. That's good! See, Mo? We did good."

"You did _great_ ," Tony insisted with a crack in his voice, letting the book topple to the ground as he lurched forward and wrapped Peter in his arms, Morgan squished between the two. "I love it so, so, so much. Jesus, kiddos. You're the greatest kids on Earth."

"You're the greatest daddy on Earth!" Morgan insisted, squirming to the best of her ability to crane and look at Tony in the eye. 

"Yeah," Peter said with closed eyes. "The greatest dad on Earth."

The flash of a camera glowed in Tony's eyelids. He snapped them open, immediately met with the lens of Peter's camera in Pepper's hands. She was grinning mischievously down at the three.

"Happy birthday, Tony."

She leaned forward and kissed his lips. It was quick, like it was a habit. A habit Tony never hoped to break.

Tony Stark celebrated his birthday every year for the rest of his long life after that.


End file.
